


La Vida es un Poco Loco

by Amelia041223



Category: Coco (2017), Tangled: The Series (Cartoon)
Genre: Abuse, Angst (sorry), Attempted Murder, Coco (2017, Crossover, Don't know what I'm doing, F/M, Father-Son Relationships - Freeform, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Imprisonment, Music, Never done these fandoms before, Spanish sprinkled throughout, Tangled: The Series, This will be long, Varian Redemption, don't want to steal, hope this works, if I don't give up, let alone a crossover, only want to expand on an amazing idea, was heavily inspired
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-05 12:29:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14044287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amelia041223/pseuds/Amelia041223
Summary: Héctor Rivera didn't think he would ever be welcome in a King's Court, let alone a foreign one. He feels the thrill of excitement, but, ultimately, he still finds his thoughts filled with home. Ernesto, however, is clearly enjoying himself.Somewhere, down in Corona's dungeon, a bedraggled, broken boy has his face pressed up against the bars, marvelling as his ears pick up music from another land. For once in a long while, he's curious.Basically, a crossover story about Héctor Rivera (Coco) getting up to a few escapades in the fine, stuffy streets of Corona. Rapunzel is back from her adventures for a while, and Frederic wanted to give her a treat, probably to take their minds off of the painful reminder downstairs.I've never written these characters before, so please bear with me. I am also devoting all credit for this story to ghosta-r on tumblr, because of their amazing artwork. This is basically my interpretation of their masterpiece, and will be heavily influenced by it, so I just want to, right now, give all credit to them for this idea, although, I think the story will, none the less, be different. This is not meant to be a robbery, but merely an expansion of an idea.





	La Vida es un Poco Loco

**Author's Note:**

> As I said in the summary, this is not my idea! The story will be mine, and it will be different, but it is heavily, I mean HEAVILY influenced by the amazing artwork by ghosta-r on tumblr. I'm going to put a link to their artwork here, but if it is frowned upon to do such a thing, I will immediately edit this. I'm really sorry, I basically have never done this before, written from someone else's fanart, and don't want to take credit for their idea. Hell, I don't even have tumblr.  
> Okay.  
> (Deep breath.)  
> Basically, their idea just made me really excited for once, so I wanted to expel my energy. This will be a long fic (I'm hoping) and I've got tons of ideas for it. I just hope you like it.  
> Anyway, I just hope you enjoy, I'm sorry if you don't like my writing, and I hope this doesn't disgrace the awesome artwork it was inspired by. More links between the artwork and the story with appear later, throughout. 
> 
> This chapter also takes place, I think, approximately three weeks after SOTSD.

Héctor Rivera felt his jaw slacken against his will, his tongue running along the back of his teeth. He hadn't seen such a monstrosity of architecture in his life, the majestic towers spiralling precariously into the folds of blue, tips nestled among the clouds. They had been riding through treacherous forest for too long, in his opinion, the road cracked, uneven, and speckled with roots and...and those...other...things.

They first encountered the black spikes four days ago, their sleek, jutting bodies both mystifying, and horribly menacing. Although Héctor had at first been curious, he thought they would be the perfect excuse to turn around, and head back home...

'Nonsense, Héctor!' Ernesto had cried, slapping his meaty hand across Héctor's bony back. 'Where's your sense of adventure? We've come all this way, on a _royal_ invitation, at that. You wouldn't want to disappoint el señor, would you? Su majestad! Did you ever think we'd get here, amigo?' Héctor couldn't help but feel his lips quirk upward at the sight of his friend's enthusiasm, Ernesto's eyes glimmering with pure, unshakeable delight. Throughout the entire trip, he had been nothing but an overexcitable schoolboy, his chin held high in unwavering pride. At first, Héctor expected he would feel the same. Now, however, as the trip wore on, and the people became less and less familiar, the roads stretching longer, and longer, Héctor found himself only looking back, constantly over his shoulder, the subtle shadow of a hole in his stomach only growing wider.

He didn't want to be the cause for his friend's unhappiness, but, he knew he couldn't go on like this. He would have to break the news to him sooner or later. And face the consequences. 

The royal invitation had been a shock, however. After a few nights of their performances in neighbouring cities, their particular branch of music completely exploratory for their audience, a nondescript man had approached them, bearing a letter sealed with an unfamiliar crest. Héctor had gingerly cracked the wax, glancing uncertainly at the stranger. 

'His royal highness of Corona has requested your appearance in court,' the stranger said, smiling encouragingly. 'Word of your peculiar sounds and speech have spread throughout the land, and, naturally, he wants a big to-do for his little girl. She's just come back from holidaying in some godforsaken country...' The stranger raised a hand conspiratorially to Héctor, who frowned, but didn't back away. 'He also wishes to win a bet against King Trevor of Equis, who wagered he'd be able to grace his halls with the music of the foreigners first. Not bloody likely, damn near killed my horse. King Frederic does not appreciate losing,' the stranger then gave an abrupt bark of laughter, and pushed Héctor on the shoulder.

'Go, friend,' he said, as he took his own seat at the tavern bar. 'Don't disappoint his majesty, if you know what's good for you,' he chuckled, then proceeded to burry his nose in a tankard of ail. 

It was hard to believe the extraño encounter had even happened at all. Ernesto, of course, had been positively elated at the prospect of 'gracing royalty.' Héctor was only sorry he had spoken up about his misgivings sooner.

It was too late now.

 _As soon as this is all over, then you can tell him,_ Héctor determined

Now, as they finally approached the city gates of Corona, the air heavy with the clutter, and bustle he was used to, Héctor allowed himself to smile. He would make the most of this last performance, he decided. 

~

It was increíble, absolutamente asombroso! Héctor jumped from stall to stall, nearly stumbling over his gangly limbs in his haste to explore the strange culture. The people appeared friendly enough, though some of them regarded him with odd looks. Héctor vaguely supposed his bright, glittering Charro suit was probably a little too...flamboyant. He made a small note to himself to change later.

'Hola, qué tal? Hola! Es un buen día, no? Buenos días!' he called cheerfully, tipping his straw hat respectfully. His guitarra swinging lightly on his back, Héctor quickly flitted around the cobbled street, none the less cautiously scrambling behind Ernesto's long, purposeful strides. He didn't want to miss anything, but he knew Ernesto wouldn't appreciate waiting too long for him.

Slowly, but steadily, Héctor and Ernesto made their way up to the castle, their steps flanked by curious stares. 

~

'Welcome, my foreign friends!' His majesty, King Frederic of Corona, announced, spreading his arms in greeting. Ernesto immediately bowed graciously, his arms wound tightly across his back and chest. 

'It is an honour, your highness,' he said crisply, waiting for permission before straightening. Héctor, slightly taken off guard, quickly dipped a stiff, awkward dip of his head, wobbling on his feet in his haste.

'Rise, musicians,' King Frederic offered pleasantly, 'I am pleased to introduce you to my Queen, Arianna of Corona, and my beautiful daughter, Princess Rapunzel,' he gestured benevolently to the dignified brunette on his right, and the earnestly grinning, youthful blonde on his left. She appeared so excitable, Héctor half feared she would burst from her seat, and ricochet off the walls.

And what a blonde she was! Héctor didn't believe he had ever seen anyone with so much...hair, the thick, shining locks pulled, and bunched together, only held in place by various strings of red beads. Héctor quickly shook himself. It was rude to stare. She'd probably think he was being un poco ezpeluznante. 

'Your majesty, we have travelled very far to entertain you. My amigo and I will now be happy to fill your halls with our música, if you will permit us,' Ernesto tilted his head, then glared at Héctor through the corner of his eye. Héctor swallowed dryly, then cracked a sheepish smile. He quickly wrestled his guitarra from his back, sliding the strap along his shoulder. He really hoped they wouldn't be thrown out on their culos. 

~

Héctor strummed the last chord triumphantly on his guitarra, smiling widely, despite himself, his chest heaving from the exertion. As soon as the music began, he lost himself, circling, and twirling, bounding along the hall. Of course he had been nervous, and the thought of bouncing along a King's court had not been the most advisable course of action, but, it couldn't be helped. He was lost as soon as he uttered his first grito, the shrieking trill bubbling up from his belly. 

Now, however, reality decided to crash around him in pressing waves, the walls tightening, bending inward. Héctor glanced sidelong at Ernesto, who only stared at the King. Héctor knew the response would be his whole world. 

A thick silence filled the room. Héctor quickly felt his smile slide from his face, his breathing hitching in his throat. Had they made a mistake? 

'That...' 

Héctor flicked his eyes upward. The princess had chosen to speak, her green eyes large, and unreadable. 

'...was...'

She snapped her head up, a light twinkling in the heart of her pupil.

'Awesome!' She exclaimed, clapping into the silence. As soon as she began, however, the rest of the court was quick to follow. Héctor felt himself relax, a breath he didn't know he had been holding leaking swiftly through his nose. He watched as the princess bounced giddily on the edge of her seat, her golden locks threatening to spill from their constraints.

'Amazing! Your language and style are so unique, and inspired!' she exclaimed, rising from her throne. Héctor quickly bowed his head respectfully, his heart swelling in his chest, crowding his ribs.

'T-thank you, your highness!' Héctor stammered, 'we are honoured-'

'Could you possibly stay a few nights longer?' she immediately inquired, 'or, would that be too presumptuous?' she suddenly frowned, as though she had made an error. 'I'm sorry, I only thought you would be exhausted from your journey here, and perhaps you could afford to rest before returning home, I would be happy to supply rooms for you, right here in the castle. It would be so wonderful if you could spare at least a few more performances. Father?' The princess looked to the King for permission. The King didn't appear to be as...enthusiastic, but he only opened his mouth, before the princess rushed to his side, thanking him for a gift he had not yet authorized. Héctor could see him soften, however, as soon as his little niña wrapped her arms around his neck. Héctor suddenly felt a tug of longing...

'It would be our greatest pleasure, your highness,' Ernesto said easily, placing his hat to his chest, his cheeks flushed with excitement. Héctor blinked. It had all happened so fast. 

 _Now, or never,_ a voice in Héctor's head piped up. He...bit his tongue.

Somehow, he couldn't bring himself to dampen his friend's happiness. Not yet, anyway.

 _Soon,_ he promised himself, as he watched the King embrace his daughter.

_Soon..._

_~_

Héctor Rivera shuffled his feet heavily along the passage, the carpet soft under his boots. The plump fullness of the moon drifted through a window at the end of the dark passage, casting the hall in a ghostly glow. Héctor gently fingered the faded painting of his Coco and Imelda, running his thumb comfortingly along the faded edge. He walked through the grim, twisting halls without direction, his thoughts drifting languidly through his mind. Painfully. 

Eventually, when he reached what appeared to be the end of the darkest hall in the castle, the walls turning to stone and mortar, the air around him suddenly falling to a cool breeze, he stopped, his back sliding along a heavily bolted wooden door. He barely noticed, his fingers gliding idly along the strings of his guitarra.

'Oh, my Coco,' he whispered faintly, 'forgive me...' He felt the heaviness of his heart sink into the recesses of his stomach, his hand curling resolutely along the smooth, wooden neck. 'Your papa is coming, I promise. Just, don't...' he didn't want the words to slip past his tongue, but his lips betrayed him.

'Don't...forget me,' he murmured. He then drew a deep breath, his eyes sliding shut of their own accord. He didn't need to see to play. He knew the chords all by heart.

He then began in the softest of melodies, his voice only wavering slightly.

' _Recuerda me...'_

~

Varian curled in on himself, his knees pulled tightly to his chest. His empty, hollow chest. He couldn't feel anything anymore, the blackness surrounding him his only home. He was lost, drifting through the endless void, nothing to hold onto, nothing to break his fall...

The first night, he hadn't said a word, his heart still thrumming rapidly with the fire of his anger, the heat throbbing in his ears, his nails biting crescent moons into his palms. They took away his gloves, his goggles, his apron, and...everything. They slid the barred door of his cell shut, leaving the alchemist to fume quietly in his prison, his wrists chained closely to the wall. They were afraid of him, Varian could see it in their eyes, their gazes never resting on him long, their fists firm around his wrists as they carefully, methodically, tightened the shackles. He wanted to scream at them, and probably had, now that he thought of it, but he couldn't hear anything that first night. Only the painful roar of his rage.

He didn't know how long he stayed like that, his body shaking with energy, and clear hatred. He only knew that, at some point, his body had decided to betray him. At some point in time, he had exploded. 

The walls were too small, closing in on him fast, crushing him, sucking the air from his lungs. He couldn't run, or hide form the darkness, the doubt, or...guilt...as it seeped through his veins like a poison. He thrashed against his bonds until his skin broke and bled, thin rivers running smoothly along his arms. He had screamed until his throat burst. 

He couldn't fight the shadows for long, however, and soon...he was swallowed, the floor upending him into the folds of a directionless, surrounding pool of black. He was...nowhere. 

He didn't know how long he had even been there, trapped in that pit of nothing, haunted only by nightmares, and...voices. One day he knew he had exhausted every salted tear from his body, the flesh around his eyes tender, and sore to the touch, his chest bruised from suppressing choking sobs. 

He knew there had been others in his cell at times, their voices more pronounced than the usual ones, their figures more full, and deep. But he couldn't hear them. He didn't want to, knowing they would only hurt him. He shied away from them, scraping his head against the stone of the wall behind him. Occasionally, food, and water were brought, slipped timidly into his world. More often than not he knew his stomach would only expel whatever he dared to put into it, and a larger part of him didn't even  _want_ to bother with any of it anymore, but sometimes, the hunger gnawing and twisting painfully in his stomach became even too much for him to handle, and he forced a sip of water down his throat, or a bite of whatever tasteless meal they had brought him. 

Today, though, he hadn't moved, his sole focus having been concentrated on shutting the voices out, his fingers pressing into his ears until his head pounded in protest. He only listened fiercely to the ragged sound of his breaths, hoping he could drown them all out-

He frowned. There was something there, he realized, the thin stream of sound leaking through the thickness of the black, rippling and echoing sweetly in his head, blooming with...colour. Varian squinted, finally loosening his claw-like grasp, letting the new voice in.

He couldn't understand it, the consonants more fluid, almost florid with their careful flicks and trills. Varian was entranced, his head buzzing comfortably with the newfound glow. Underneath the floating line, a jumble of chords, and soft clusters of notes danced effortlessly, swelling, and falling in the softest of blends. Varian slowly, timidly, shifted his legs from underneath his frail form, gently rustling his chains as he crept closer towards the sound. For the first time in a very long while, Varian felt the old, nearly forgotten spark of curiosity drop into his chest, coursing violently through his body in a trembling rupture. Varian pulled against his bonds, nearly tearing his shoulders from their sockets, willing to reach the new voice, as it effortlessly muffled all the others.

Sprawled across the sparse floor of his cell, Varian brushed his nose against the bars.

He suddenly felt something uncoil inside him, loosening their grip, if only for a moment, as he leaned into the sound. 

For a moment, he could feel the ground.

For a moment, he was...alive.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hoped you enjoyed, and I apologize in advance for my embarrassing writing skills. I hope I didn't ruin these characters!
> 
> As promised, link to artwork:
> 
> http://ghosta-r.tumblr.com/post/171639386666/fuocogo-been-hashing-out-an-au-with-vikingmera


End file.
